


Stop asking me questions, I just wanna feel alive

by Silver_Foxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Protective Derek, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, idk - Freeform, ill make sure to put authors note before chapters that could be triggering, im bad with tags, ratings will change, will add warnings as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Foxx/pseuds/Silver_Foxx
Summary: Stiles hated the world.He hated the end of Junior year when his whole life had changed,He hated that no one would ever know why.He hated Derek and his stupid cigarettes.He hated school and grades.He hated the fake smile he wore each and every day.He hated being tired.He hated.And then somehow, someway, Derek showed Stiles how he was capable of loving instead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first writing in a looong time and I'm going to force myself to stick with it. I have commitment issues that start and end with AO3 and I'm so sorry lol.  
> I'm going to be updating as frequently as possible but I don't have anyone to beta my writing so I'm always obsessively checking my writing for grammar mistakes or something. I hope you enjoy tho because I've had this idea for a long ass time and I just wanted to write a more emotional fic because I like making myself cry evidently.

“Mr.Stilinski, what can I do for you?”  
“You told me I could come in to talk about my math grade which I need to boost to keep my 4.0 GPA and-“  
“Woah, woah, woah” Mr. Harris rose from his seat and strolled over to where I awkwardly stood in the doorway, his hand ran up and down my arm as I furrowed my eyebrows laughing uncomfortably and feeling the hairs stand on the back of my neck. My gut told me something was wrong—  
_______________________________________

Stiles sat up in bed, heart beating loudly and thumping against his chest. Heavy and hard and fast- making it difficult to breathe correctly, each breath coming out in uneven bursts. It had been another nightmare, one where he had screamed his voice raw and clawed at his arms viciously, thankfully not breaking skin but instead leaving harsh red lines that stood out against his pale complexion. 

"Fuck." He fell back into bed cursing the beads of sweat on his forehead and the sheets that felt all too constricting. 

He knew it couldn't be anywhere near time for school as none of his alarms were activated, but maybe he hadn't even set them. It was hard to remember to do such trivial things nowadays.  
His bed creaked and groaned as he rose from it and padded across the room feeling around for the edge of his dresser and the doorway of the bathroom. His hands slid along the wall and he found the light switch counting to ten and shutting his eyes while he flipped it on. 

He cast his eyes down to the counter as they adjusted, searching for a glass while simultaneously avoiding the mirror, his reflection only showed a stranger now, he wasn’t that person anymore.

The glass filled and he sipped slowly, cold water flowing down his sore throat into his empty stomach which growled loudly reminding him of the missed meals from days and days before. 

It felt too stuffy in his room so Stiles opened the window and crawled onto the roof of his house, trying to make as little noise as possible despite his father being down at the station working the night shift. The crisp morning air hit him and the hairs on his neck stood up as he felt a shiver run down his spine. 

It felt good. 

Sighing into the night (early morning?) he leaned backwards and onto his elbows looking up at the stars in the clear night sky. His mother was up there somewhere, he thought, she had to be. 

"Hey mom ." His voice croaked and he cleared it, the noise echoing into the night. 

"I miss you, so so much . -" 

He paused mulling his words over. 

"- I need you now more than ever, dad needs you. I hope you don't think of me the way I think of myself. I couldn't bear to know you were disappointed. I couldn't-" Stiles sighed again, he did that a lot these days. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stayed out on the roof watching the sky change from pitch black to light pink and he heard his alarm go off. 

"I guess I set it after all" he mumbled aloud. Go figure. 

_______________________________________

 

Scott had been Stiles best friend for as long as he could remember. He had helped Scott through his worst times and supported him through his best and vice versa. When Stiles’ mom died, Scott brought him food and games to play even if all they ended up doing was laying in Stiles bed as he cried and cried. 

So rationally, Stiles knew Scott wouldn't think of him differently if he told him he had killed somebody, yet, telling Scott about it had never ever crossed his mind. 

Well it had. Of course it had. 

Originally, that is, Stiles first instinct was to run to Scott. To tell him everything, to cry, to let it all out, to ask him what the fuck to do. But he knew that would only put unnecessary pressure on his friend and he couldn't put anything more onto Scott who was already stressing over colleges and GPAs and Alison and money and- 

Stiles was alone in this one. That much he knew and he accepted that. He accepted that maybe this was one of those things that would fade away with time, maybe he wouldn't have to address the elephant in the room- the one sitting on his chest making it hard to breathe day to day. He just had to focus on other things. Like the bags under his eyes that had turned darker with each passing night, the ones that would inevitably bring concern and questioning glances from said friend. 

He had gone to the CVS earlier that week just for the occasion, spending an embarrassingly long amount of time searching through the aisles for a color correcting concealer. The lady at the checkout didn't spare him a second glance, just gave him a discount and murmured a "have a nice day ." He didn't care what went through her head, it was for the best. 

_______________________________________

His new clothes sat in the back of his closet with the tags still attached and the smell of the department store lingering on them. He leaned down and grabbed the sweatpants- joggers, from yesterday instead and shrugged on a tee, navy blue. His dark VANS were tossed carelessly into the corner of his room and he pushed them on while a toothbrush hung out of his mouth threatening to drop globs of toothpaste onto the carpet. Applying the concealer took a bit more time because it wasn't like he had ever done it before and it didn't rub in correctly, leaving a bit of the darkness to show through. Close enough. 

The clock read 6:30 and he knew he had to leave soon to get there early enough to hang out with Scott and their group of friends, but he couldn't bring himself to get in the car just yet. He had rehearsed exactly what he would say, how he would smile and act, just like an actor in a play or movie. He didn't want to warrant any unwanted attention and he knew it was safer to seem late and rushed rather than risk his cover being blown. Like a spy, he thought bitterly. 

His stomach growled in protest to his missed dinner, and lunch, and breakfast really, from yesterday so he tossed a granola bar into his bag along with a protein shake. It tasted like ass but the last thing he needed was a comment on how he had lost weight (10 lbs. but who was keeping track?). 

Locking the door and walking to the Jeep felt foreign what with all the time he had avoided any sort of human interaction outside of his house. He had to stop and close his eyes,  
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay." He repeated quietly. 

The mantra of the day. 

_______________________________________

The school was buzzing with first day excitement. Everyone crowded the halls looking for their friends, wearing new clothes and new personalities. Pushing through the crowd was easy enough, he avoided contact with anyone and tried hard to just find his locker and get the hell outside to where he knew his group of friends would be. 

Senior year perks included bigger lockers which evidently didn't mean shit so he figured this was a good reason to miss meeting up with the group. Excuses had been his new best friend this summer after all. 

Unfortunately, the universe had different plans. 

"Stiles! You look... different." Stiles looked up from where he was pushing his backpack into the small locker and into the eyes of Lydia Martin, his ex-crush and new friend since end of last year. She had joined their little ragtag group after deciding that Alison was her new best friend. Her hair was done up, half up-half down with loose curls that framed her tan face well. She wore bright red lips to match her outfit and was leaning seemingly bored against the wall, arms crossed with a patient smile. 

"I took a shower for once, go figure." Stiles joked pulling a twisted smile from ... somewhere. He had taken one… last night, so it technically wasn't lying. 

"Not good different." She was blunt and he winced. 

"Thanks, happy first day to you too." 

Lydia rolled her eyes as he slammed his locker shut, giving up, and they walked together- pushing through crowds of underclassmen streaming through the halls. 

"How was summer for you? You never came round to the ice cream shop with everyone else. I thought you loved chocolate." 

Lydia had had a part time job over the summer to Stiles bewildering, the Martins had never been secretive about their wealth. 

"Mint chip."

"Same difference."

"That is exactly why I didn't come in. No professionalism, can't even distinguish between the best ice cream flavor around ever probably and an amateur flavor like choc-" 

Lydia pushed him and he laughed falling easily back into the banter he was so accustomed too. 

"You're an idiot." 

"You love me." He smiled all teeth and Lydia shook her head back but Stiles could see her lip twitch. Goal accomplished.  
It felt nice to let go for a few minutes with her, pretend everything was okay again when it really, really wasn't. 

As they neared the entrance Lydia suddenly pulled him back into the corner. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" She looked straight into his eyes searching for something and Stiles looked past her at the wall. He knew one glance and he would be a goner and this wasn't something that could be just blurted out in the middle of the school hallway. Or ever. 

"Lyds, im just tired. We don't all wake up perfect like you." 

"I guess you're right." 

She looked unconvinced but Stiles smiled reassuringly- as best he could- and she seemed to let it go. 

As soon as he spotted their friends he felt a wave of relief. Now she wouldn't be hounding him, now he didn't have to fake this- funny guy act. For a few minutes he could just listen to everyone else and laugh when appropriate. 

"Stiles!" Scott bounced over and jumped onto Stiles back jokingly. Stiles immediately panicked but remembered this wasn't... him. This was Scott. Scott his best friend. 

"H-heya dude!" Stiles jerked back and pushed his friend off playfully. 

"We barely hung out this summer. You fell off the face of the earth basically!" 

"You spent a lot of time with Alison!" 

Stiles gave Scott a pointed look and he didn't even have the decency to look guilty. 

"We're in love." 

"Oh GOD" Stiles feigned a gag and Scott scowled. 

Erica and Boyd were debating over some movie and Lydia had her phone out and was taking selfies. 

"Seriously dude any moment now I'll ask her to be my girlfriend and then-" 

"Wait wait wait you haven't even asked?" Stiles interrupted grabbing his friend by the arm. 

"Well.... no." 

"You. Are. Hopeless." Scott frowned slightly and Stiles decided he would help his friend out, Scott deserved just that after Stiles had basically abandoned him all summer. 

"This weekend, you, me, a liter of Mountain Dew and a Call of Duty marathon. Also, I'll help you with your whole-" Stiles made a hand gesture, "girl situation." 

Scott nodded enthusiastically and gave Stiles a fist bump before turning to give the same welcoming hug attack to Isaac who had just approached. 

"What are you wearing?" Isaac raised his eyebrows at Stiles who was now being looked at by everyone around the circle. He knew his ratty attire would not bring any turning of heads but that's partially the reason he chose it. To NOT stand out. 

"Clothes?" 

"Okayy" Isaac wrinkled his nose and Stiles excused himself from the group saying he didn't want to be late. Everyone seemed too occupied to answer back anyways. 

This would be okay, everything would slide right back into place and he could completely forget about the end of last year. About the day before summer break. About everything. 

"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay." Over and over and over again. 

Who knew this much interaction with others would get to him this much. His head hurt and he felt like crumbling to the floor and hiding away forever. Faking everything was hard, having to remember to smile and laugh in all the right places. To not let anything through his cracked exterior. 

"I'm so fucking tired." He mumbled, avoiding the entrance instead heading to the back of the school where the typical stoners and burn outs smoked and hung out. 

No one was there and Stiles slid to the ground leaning back against the brick wall. He felt his eyes flutter and made the executive decision to nap for a second before the bell...

 

"Move." 

Stiles head snapped up and he was faced with a... man? He definitely didn't look like a student but Stiles didn't keep track of the student body. He was too tired for this shit at 7 am and this guy really didn't add to his already declining mood. He groaned and rubbed his eyes praying that the concealer wouldn't rub off The guy raised his eyebrows impatiently and Stiles realized he was supposed to say something or- you know- move. 

"Why? Doesn't have your name on it." He snapped back and the guys brows furrowed even more, eyes glaring daggers at Stiles. 

He had black hair and green eyes, stubble, and he was fairly attractive. Not that that mattered to Stiles in any way shape or form. He was still a dick point blank. 

"Yes actually, it does." Mystery guy pointed aggressively to a spot near Stiles head where 'Derek' was carved in sharp letters. 

"Original. Gotta love vandalism." Stiles drawled, standing up regardless and going to find another wall where this asshole wouldn't be. 

Happy fucking first day. 

_______________________________________

Every class was a blur, first period, second, third, Stiles couldn't keep track nor did he care to. His agenda was left blank and any papers were pushed into the bottom of his bag forgotten. 

The teachers smiled sharply and explained the year and stiles stared out the window.  
His classmates scrambled to sit next to their friends and Stiles sat in the corner at the wobbly desk nobody wanted. Stiles mind drifted to the thought of his warm bed and despite the ever present nightmare problem he wished so badly he could just nap for a few minutes. 

Lunch came round and Stiles chugged his protein shake quickly, granola bar forgotten, and told Erica not to wait up for him as he had to talk to his counselor about graduation requirements. Of course she believed him, she didn't have any reason not to, and he gave her a thumbs up in return. Actively avoiding B hallway, Stiles found his way outside.

For some reason, the same wall from earlier sounded fairly appealing as it was a nice spot to crash and was out of sight from the school cameras. Asshole be damned. 

Nobody was there again which was unusual but Stiles didn't mind of course. He preferred it actually. 

 

"What the fuck, kid." 

Stiles recognized the voice from earlier and looked up from where he had recently just sat, pointedly much farther away from the carved name. 

"I'm not in your spot again am I?" He deadpanned and presumably Derek huffed indignantly and leaned against the wall coolly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes like the edgy guy he was. Stiles held back the temptation to comment on how cliché that really was. 

Stiles ignored the flick of the lighter and the puff of smoke that wafted in his direction no doubt making him smell like a smoker himself. He opted for looking up into the sky and praying the rest of the year would run more smoothly.

"Want one?" 

Stiles turned and stared at the outstretched hand which now was holding a cigarette in his direction. Derek looked anything but happy, as if that one small action genuinely pained him. Dramatic, much? 

Stiles shook his head wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

"Suit yourself." 

The time passed slowly and Stiles felt an itch under his skin at having been stuck in silence for so long. The air wasn't muggy as it had been all summer and Stiles could tell the weather was transitioning from summer to fall slowly but surely. 

"Do you even go here?" Stiles broke the silence. 

Derek threw the cigarette bud to the dirt and ground his foot into it, taking his sweet ass time. 

"No." 

"Really?" 

"Of course I go here. Why the fuck would I choose to spend my time behind a high school?" 

Stiles... didn't really have an answer to that so he shrugged lamely. 

"Do YOU go here?" Derek shot back. 

"I'm holding a backpack." 

Derek shrugged mimicking stiles. 

"Whatever dude it's not my fault you look old." 

"Well you look twelve."

They glared at each other yet Stiles wanted to keep going. It felt good to be mad at somebody. To throw punches and receive them.

"I'm 18." He mumbled defensively.

"I don't care." 

Stiles made a noise of annoyance and Derek's mouth twitched into a sort-of smile so quickly that it could've just been Stiles imagination. Derek seemed to relax, staring up at the sun for a few seconds and then closing his eyes. He was wearing a leather jacket- in the fucking summer- and had a plain white t shirt and dark wash jeans. He kind of looked like a model if Stiles was being completely honest. 

He couldn't stand the guy. 

The bell rang a few seconds later and Stiles rose slowly to see Derek had already vanished.. somewhere. He absentmindedly wondered if the guy even went to class and then shook his head. Fuck Derek. He was a dick. He was a smoker. He was rude. 

But Stiles couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his mind reminding him that this had been the first time in months that he didn't actively think about... it. The first time in months that he had maybe possibly had a good time talking with somebody and not having to focus on being fake. Smiling and laughing and lying. 

It didn't matter. He wasn't coming back to this damn spot. He could find his own. He didn't need to justify sitting somewhere! It was a free country. 

Tomorrow, he reasoned, he would go to lunch with his friends and that would be that. 

The late bell rang and Stiles snapped back to reality. 

Fuck. This.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I stayed up late the past few nights to write this because summer break and boredom and blah blah blah... also I was listening to sad Spotify playlists and that shit motivates you to write, man. I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes, I really could use a beta but obviously not bad enough to look for one so, enjoy! Hopefully it doesn't suck too bad- I'm looking to have more interactions between Stiles and Derek but obviously this is slow burn for a reason. It'll be more interesting as I dive more into the plot so stay tuned and settle for this LAME filler.

The rest of the day passed so slowly Stiles felt himself dragging throughout the halls. His backpack felt heavier and heavier and he had to stop occasionally just to remind himself to stay awake. Every class was the same and he found himself wondering how he could’ve possibly gone day to day like this for so long when now it felt like a death sentence. Nope, that was definitely pushing it, time to get out of this melodramatic headspace. 

Stiles couldn’t help but look through the halls searching for Derek’s face amongst the crowd if only to really see if the guy went there. He continued to wave at all his friends in the hallway, overenthusiastically, and it was fairly draining when all he wanted to do was fall to the floor instead. Luckily, he was able to avoid B hallway even if it meant being late to 5th period, and finally the last bell rang. His phone vibrated and he knew it must be the group chat going off. 

Group chat: Seniorz szn 

Erica has changed the group chat name to “seniorz szn” 

Scoot McCool: Nice name! :D  
Lydsss: Do you even grammar?  
Erica: Ha ha . it’s creative bish  
Scoot McCool: I like it  
Alis0n: I think it’s pretty cute  
Lydsss: hopeless. All of you. 

Stiles decided against any sort of commenting and opted to turn off the notifications. The tiredness in his bone overran the feeling of guilt he had and he was more concerned with driving when he could barely keep his eyes open. Weighing his options, he really had no choice but to catch the bus (hell no.) or risk it. Luckily, he no longer had to catch the bus -another senior perk being the ability to drive to school, and so he lingered at his locker waiting for the underclassmen traffic to die down. Which is why when Stiles spotted the dark figure hurrying to the exit he felt his eyes widen. It was Derek holy shit he did go here.

Not like Stiles thought he was lying or anything… nope… not at all…

He didn’t really need the extra attention so he refrained from waving or making a fool of himself and it’s not like Derek would have made any effort to acknowledge him let alone actually wave back. Before he knew it, everyone minus a few stragglers, were out of the halls and he sighed emerging from the corner with which he chose to hide in. 

Then he stopped in his tracks. 

All the air in his lungs disappeared and his eyes widened at the person who had just turned down the halls oblivious to Stiles shaking form. Instantly, Stiles moved to the closest classroom- thankfully abandoned- and to the back where he knew no one could see inside. The footsteps drifted quickly outside and then past the door but Stiles felt himself permanently stuck in the dark room. His breathing quickened again and he knew a panic attack was going to come on strong. He felt dizzy, his head light and airy, his eyes flitted across the room to the windows which poorly lit up the desks and he pushed one open and felt the chill wash over him. The panic subsided but he knew it was only a matter of time before it would come back, he had already had at least 5 within the past week and it must be some kind of fucking record. Suprisingly, the annoying breathing exercises he had learned in middle school during therapy sort of kind of worked and he felt his heartbeat slow and thanked whatever forces decided to let him drive home before an attack did occur. Stiles- 1 Panic Attacks- 0. 

_______________________________________

The group chat was more than filled with after school plans, but Stiles shot a text saying he was tired and to go on without him. Promising to go tomorrow with them instead despite his mind already trying to supply an excuse. Get a fucking grip. 

His dad wasn’t home and he found a note on the counter which thankfully said he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow because a case had arisen and it would probably take all night. Stiles felt his stomach growl for the 80th time that day and decided to search the fridge for something, anything, that would shut it up yet not give him the feeling of nausea that plagued him permanently. Another protein shake and half a ham sandwich later and Stiles’ stomach seemed less angry and more frustrated instead. He could deal. 

He forced himself to turn on the TV and mindlessly switched from channel to channel ending up on Animal Planet watching the top ten most interesting sea creatures from modern day all the way to pre-historic time. 

Riveting. 

His eyes felt heavier than they had before so he let them shut and succumb to the sleep which called him. 

_______________________________________

I froze, confused by his hand sliding up and down my arm. Paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to talk.

“I think we can come to some sort of agreement for that A, hm?” he was now rubbing my tense shoulder. We moved backwards and I felt cold hard brick behind me- the wall. 

“What do you think, Stiles?” His voice purred my name in a way that I could never forget and I felt bile rise from my stomach.

“N-no.” I stuttered outloud but he just laughed incredulously. 

“No?— that wasn’t an option, now was it?” 

He moved closer and closer and.. 

_______________________________________

Stiles snapped awake already knowing the drill. He ran to the bathroom and then there was lunch or dinner or whatever the fuck it was floating, taunting him from the toilet. Daring him to try to put another bite in his mouth. He dry heaved for a few seconds and then sank to the floor, shaking with tears running down his face. Whether from vomiting or other he had no idea. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” He cursed loudly into the empty bathroom and flushed the toilet watching all the water go down and wishing he could go with it.

Sleeping was no longer an option obviously, so Stiles decided to play Mario Kart for 3 hours instead. He wished for a millisecond that he had some sort of pet to keep himself occupied but then he shook his head. He would never subject an animal to be with him through all his ever growing issues. 

He scrolled through his phone, Twitter, then Instagram and found himself searching “Derek” into the bar. Obviously, there were oh- 1,000,000 Derek’s in the world so it wasn’t like he could find him just based off his first name. Why did it matter anyways? 

He closed the apps and clicked his phone of, yet his mind continued to think about the broody individual. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder why he had never heard of or seen Derek in the school before, maybe he was new? 

The sky drifted to a beautiful pink and then purple as the sun went down and Stiles found comfort in laying on the roof, again, to watch it. He said ‘hello’ to his mom of course and then watched the clouds drift. Noises of kids being called inside, dogs barking, and people arriving home from work, seized to exist as the night arrived. The stars appearing once again despite clouds fogging the sky. Stiles groaned because night meant sleep and sleep meant nightmares and nightmares fucking sucked. He decided he had two options;

1\. Try to sleep, probably have a nightmare, stay up all night  
2\. Stay up all night and have no nightmare 

We have a winner, he thought bitterly. He decided he would be less of a hazard on the road now that less people were driving it and took a risk to drive to the 7-eleven nearby. He probably could’ve walked but alas Stiles was never one to choose exercise over convenience. 

The aisles were bear and the guy who looked like he could be Stiles grandfather sat at the cash register, slumped over, snoring loudly. Stiles rolled his eyes and then searched for his items. He struggled slightly to carry the 3 Monsters to the register and fumbled a few times- dropping them once which had the cashier jumping up, alert in a daze.

“Sorry” He squeaked sheepishly and the guy just shook his head and fell back into the previous slumber. Stiles left his change on the counter and left quietly as to not wake the older man. Again. 

_______________________________________

The morning came soon enough and Stiles was only on his 2nd Monster. Score!  
He stuffed the other one into his backpack along with the gross protein shake and same granola bar from before. This time, he wasted no time in lounging about to avoid leaving for school and rather hurried to his car so as to seem a bit more normal today. Maybe he was a tiny bit excited to see Derek but he didn’t want to think about that because it just brought on too many questions. He just wanted someone to talk to, that was all. Probably.

He swerved into the parking lot with shaky hands (2- almost 3 Monsters could do that to a person), and surveyed the front of the school for his friends.

“There he is! We missed you, dude.” Scott bounced over looking more awake than Stiles had been in probably fucking years, and he felt a bit envious at the optimism his friend possessed.

“Yea sorry- duty calls.” 

“Your dad?” 

“Uh- yea. Wanted to spend some good ol’ Stiles quality time.” Stiles gave Scott a fist bump and they walked together to meet the others.

“—Disgusting! That does not count as breakfast, what on earth are you doing?”

Lydia was yelling at Erica apparently for eating a fruit roll up for breakfast and Stiles watched as she cackled, eating it all up quickly in one bite while Lydia stared in disgust.

“It’s technically a fruit.” Erica commented. 

“No, Erica, it’s technically not.” 

Lydia snatched the second roll up from her hands and Erica whined in protest. 

“It’s for your own good”

“Fuck off, Martin!” 

“Ladies, ladies!” Jackson approached, kissing Lydia on the forehead and giving Erica a smirk.

“Ew.” Erica glared and turned away, decidedly bored with her mission to get the roll up back.

“You got this for me babe?” Jackson took the roll up and Lydia groaned as Erica laughed loudly. Stiles shook his head but stood back and continued to watch as each friend came to join the circle. Alison walked over looking like a badass bitch as per usual, Scott drooled everywhere, Stiles had to subtely punch him in the arm. Boyd kissed Erica, Isaac whined about how good a supposed ‘Danny’ looked, and Stiles yawned. All in all, a pretty average morning. 

The chaos provided him with a reason to just sit back and watch rather than engage but he mentally high fived himself when he payed attention long enough to contribute an occasional ‘mhm’ or ‘yes’ to the conversation. It’s the small things. 

“So Stiles, you coming tonight?” 

“—Where?”

Alison rolled her eyes lightly, “Movie night! It’ll be the normal group plus I met this girl in chemistry so she will probably bring a few people, probably like 10 in total including you..”

“Sure, yea, count me in!” Stiles interrupted nodding quickly. 

“okayyy” Alison rose her eyebrow and Stiles smiled back.

Truthfully he only heard half of that but it felt easier to just go with the flow. He couldn’t ignore all group activites forever, got to start somewhere right? 

The bell never sounded better and Stiles rushed to say goodbye and hurry to class. In all honestly, he just needed time to regroup and maybe sneakily drink the 3rd monster in his bag. Fortunately, there was a substitute (on the second day of school, go figure.) so he debated just asking to go to the bathroom and not coming back really, but there was the underlying problem of where to go and he didn’t really want to go back behind the school to Derek’s corner. Part of him, a part he wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge thank you very much, told him he felt better back there than he had in months, but that part of Stiles was probably the same part that told him to down his monster in one go. 

He blamed the monster for the instant splurge of energy- therefore the mindless decision to yes, get up and leave class, and also ding ding! Go back to that damn spot. Fuck, he really hated his head recently. 

_______________________________________

Stiles definitely was impressed with his muscle memory because he didn’t even remember the trip from the classroom upstairs to outside the school downstairs. It was a bit more muggy so the temperature wasn’t very generous to Stiles in his sweat pant, t-shirt combo, but he wasn’t in the position to complain so he planted himself right in front of the derek scrawl in the wall. It wasn’t like Derek would also somehow feel the need to ditch first period—

 

HOLY SHIT.

“are you stalking me?” Stiles gaped at the dark figure walking towards him. 

“oh my god, I know you hate words but this doesn’t look so good for you.” 

Derek ignored Stiles’ comments and cleared his throat, gesturing to the dumb name on the wall. Stiles was tempted to stand his ground but it technically wasn’t his ground and he didn’t really care about Derek’s fixation on some weird scratches in the wall. Still, he moved slowly and eyed Derek wearily all while the guy gazed down at him with disinterest- sighing loudly. Derek was wearing a similar outfit to the day before sans the leather jacket which was probably sitting in his van somewhere—the same van stiles would soon call home if he wasn’t careful.

“Stop looking at me.” Derek finally muttered, his voice deep and void of any emotion. 

Stiles blushed but continued to eye Derek wearily. At this point, he was resigned to his fate. He honestly didn’t care about what happened, but for his dad’s sake he didn’t want to be known as the dead sheriffs kid who went down without a fight. 

Derek sighed,  
“Don’t you get tired of being annoying?”  


“I’m tired that’s for sure.” Stiles mumbled, slouching to the floor and groaning loudly. He felt a headache come on strong, whether from the Monster withdrawal or just general exhaustion was a mystery, probably a combination of both. Up until this point adrenaline had really taken over and now Stiles just felt… empty.  


He couldn’t stop jumping at every sound in the halls and he feared turning the corner and running into… him. His body was weak and he felt it run deeper than that. He didn’t recognize himself, he didn’t even know how to lie correctly. It just all felt so hopeless but not suicidal hopeless, right? I mean he didn’t actively want to die—he wouldn’t go out of his way to cause any harm but if something happened I mean, purely by accident… oh my god. Stiles shook his head he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t think like that. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t, honest. He had no reason to feel that way, so what? something bad happened to him.  
Bad things happened all the time. He wasn’t a special case and nobody cared. Well, nobody knew, so there was that. BUT nobody would. He blamed the caffeine crash for this terrible train of thought and tried not to listen to the little voice in the back of his head that told him there was some truth in there, somewhere.  


Stiles really needed to stop thinking so he did what he did best, ramble.  


“for the record,” Stiles began looking up at Derek who was actively avoiding any sort of eye contact or signal of acknowledgement in Stiles’ direction.  
“you don’t even sit in your spot. You stand near it. Also I don’t know who told you it was your spot, a mark on the wall? I don’t think if I wrote my name on the White House it would be mine. Also I would be in jail which is so not the point. So, freedom to sit here, and all that.” He waved his hand absentmindedly and finished lamely.  


“Like I said. Annoying.”  


Derek had already pulled out a cigarette and taken a long, lazy drag blowing the smoke out slowly. He was eyeing Stiles curiously and Stiles looked away from the scrutinizing stare.  


Stiles held back from responding and giving Derek the satisfaction of knowing how riled up he was. He unzipped his backpack and decided to give that granola bar a chance when the monster can fell out and rolled on the ground, empty. He remembered giving the granola bar away at some point to Boyd ? this morning and thumped his head against the wall.  


“Gross.” He heard from above.  


Stiles’ eyes widened comically and he gave Derek an incredulous look.  


“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You smoke! Actual cigarettes from a package. Your lungs hate you and you’re calling my—my caffeinated GOD gross? This,” he gestured to the can, “and that,” he gestured towards the cigarette “are completely different!”  


Derek just looked at Stiles and Stiles angrily snatched up the can, crushing it- albeit it took a lot of effort which Stiles chalked up to the lack of muscle mass he now possessed.  


“You!” Stiles jumped up and pointed at Derek who was still staring at Stiles blankly, cigarette slowly burning in his hand. “Are a hypocrite my friend.”  
He nodded satisfied with himself and left, leaving Derek to watch after him curiously.

He regretted it two seconds later while sitting in the bathroom staring at a stall door covered in dicks and slurs. Only 10 more minutes, he rationalized. It was better in here anyways. Nobody to bother him while he… sat with his thoughts.  
‘Nobody to talk to either’ his mind supplied.

His mind was a fucking traitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's shorter than chapter 1? So i'm very sorry but I promise chapter 3 will make it worth it all :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this being really late and stuff,, I was on vacation at the beach and while there I read a lot of dumb teen romance books. It inspired me to complete a chapter so here you go! It's longer than the others and hopefully it makes up for my last chapter which was small- soo enjoy! Tell me what you think pls comments make my day :)

6pm arrived alarmingly fast and Stiles found himself bounding outside to hop into the jeep with one shoe on and a random movie he had pulled off the shelf. He had been working on that stupid paper- or trying to- but he couldn’t find a poem that wasn’t cheesy as fuck or generally too happy for Stiles’ current situation. He couldn’t believe it had already 4 months and it was still affecting him like this. Well, he could believe it but he didn’t want to.  
He drove carefully to Alison’s clenching the wheel so his hands wouldn’t shake. He had chugged a random energy drink that was in the back of his fridge forgotten and it was just now catching up to him—go figure.  
_______________________________________

“Hey Stiles!” Alison opened the door with a peppy smile on her face, dragging him inside, making the bracelets on her arm jingle. He resisted the urge to flinch slightly and handed over the movie quickly giving her something to grab onto other than his wrist.  


“Er… this is an interesting choice?” She held it up and Stiles internally face palmed. In his haste to be on time he had grabbed the first movie that he could reach and run out the door which means his movie contribution for the night was-  


“A Cinderella Story.” Isaac read aloud over Alison’s shoulder. And when did Isaac even get here?  


“Yea, you know me, a killer for the classics.” Stiles smiled weakly and Alison rose an eyebrow but seemed generally unaffected. Isaac cackled.  
_______________________________________

The living room was already filled with people and movie snacks. Alison introduced him to everyone from left to right not including the regular crew- Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Scott, Alison. The new people- Cora, Malia, Liam, and Mason seemed fun enough and they were all very friendly.  
Snacks were strewn across the table and included various sour and chocolate candies, popcorn bowls, and liters of soda with plastic cups next to them. Scott was currently immersed in telling a story to Boyd and Erica who were intently listening and Lydia was in the kitchen getting water with Jackson. Why that was a team activity he had no idea.  
There was a bean bag chair set in the corner, so Stiles was glad to sit alone, grabbing a handful of popcorn to munch on despite his stomachs protest. He willed it to shut up and gave Scott a fist bump while making his way to the seat.  


“Okay!” Alison clapped her hands as everyone settled down- or settled a little bit at least. “We have a few movies, so we have to choose the order to watch.”  


“Frozen!” Erica interrupted, and Boyd groaned,  


“If you have any love for me as a friend you will not stick that CD anywhere near that box.”  


“I vote Frozen too.” Malia raised her hand, smiling at Erica.  


“New best friend.” Erica gave an air high five to Malia and Boyd looked between the two of them wearily.  


“We don’t have Frozen so that’s not really an option.” Alison glared at the interruption, no heat behind it.  


“What we do have is uh- Titanic—’  


“Lydia what the fuc-“  


“Shut up Jackson it’s classic.”  


“—Annabelle—”  


“BRUH.”  


“Scott you have to get over your fear of horror movies eventually—”  


“A Cinderella Story—”  


“Lydia you can’t bring two!”  


“Wasn’t me!” Lydia protested, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing at Scott. Alison looked about ten seconds away from strangling each and every one of them and the new comers sat in their respective seats seemingly unaffected by the typical antics. Maybe they would fit right in after all.  


“Okay let’s just watch Batman.”  


Stiles cheered along with Scott while Lydia mumbled about how that wasn’t even an option.  


“It’s free on demand.” Cora pointed out and Alison shot her a grateful smile and an enthusiastic thumbs up.  
_______________________________________

Halfway through the movie, Stiles excused himself to the restroom. He knew Scott had been watching him occasionally throughout the movie and it was glaringly obvious he was looking for Stiles to slip up and do, something to show that he was obviously struggling or whatever he was looking for. Either way it was taxing on Stiles to have to keep his face impassive just in case and it wasn’t like he could just leave. That would draw more attention to himself then he needed, and he actually enjoyed Batman so it wasn’t a chore to sit through. He just wasn’t fully capable of enjoying all the parts he used to which sucked. A lot.  


‘could be worst’ his mind supplied, which yea. He was being stupid. And he was taking forever in the bathroom so way to be normal, Stiles.  
He quickly flushed to make it seem like he was actually doing something other than resting lamely in the bathroom and shut the faucet on and off pushing his hands in and out quickly to make them wet. He pulled the door open quickly and stumbled right into  


Scott?  


Fuck.  


Scott flushed pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  


“Have to go that bad?” Stiles joked and Scott smiled but there wasn’t much behind it. Stiles felt like some kind of bug under a microscope as Scott’s eyes searched his own. He looked away guiltily.  


“Can we talk?” Scott motioned to go outside and Stiles groaned,  


“Dude! We’re gonna miss the best part.”  


“We’ve seen this movie like 100 times each dude.”

“Your point?”  


Scott seemed to sigh in relief at Stiles sarcasm and Stiles definitely was out of the woods for now.  


“You’d tell me, you know, if something was wrong?” Stiles nodded furiously and Scott gave him a toothy grin.  


“Good. Because I’m here for you, through anything. Everything, womb to tomb!”  


Stiles felt like a bobblehead with his nodding up and down mechanically. They went back to the room but not before Stiles willed his hands to stop shaking and shut his eyes counting backwards from ten.  
_______________________________________

He should’ve known.  


It was there, all the signs- his father had been working later than usual which Stiles didn’t question because he was grateful at least his dad wasn’t asking him how he was all the time. He also had seen the liquor cabinet open more frequently but it didn’t raise any flags. Fuck.  


FUCK.  


How could he have forgotten…?  


The calendar didn’t have any red circles or markings that gave hint to it being his the anniversary of his mothers death but he had the date memorized going through his head over and over again. When she had first passed, it was all he focused on. Counting down the days to when it would be a year without his mom, without her hugs or kisses or home cooked meals. Food had tasted like ash and he felt permanently cold, now, he was used to that but… he had stopped counting down. Why did he stop? Stiles couldn’t believe it how- how fucking selfish he had been acting. So what he had something normally considered a.. trauma—maybe he was downplaying it but it wasn’t an excuse. Nothing was. Nothing to excuse forgetting your mother’s own death.  


It took every ounce of strength left for him to get out of bed and drag himself to the bathroom. His eyes had bags no amount of make up could cover and when he looked into the mirror all he saw was the ghost of somebody he used to know well. He shut his eyes tightly and willed himself to keep going, he could give his mom that. Effort. Strength. It would be what she wanted right? He didn’t know anymore, he didn’t know anything. The routine he had settled in easily of applying concealer, packing an albeit small lunch, and slowly driving to school worked out and he found himself sitting in the parking lot. Crowds of friends laughing and joking with each other surrounded him and he sat there taking it all in. He craved that innocence, what he used to have and had been taken from him. He was mad, fucking angry. At himself, at HIM, at everybody.  


Which is why the next thing he knew he found himself in the nurses office sporting a black eye and busted lip, feeling more alive than he ever had before. A referral slip sat in his lap and he just stared at it reading the scrawl.  
‘Stiles Stilinski; Offense: provoking fights with older peers seemingly unaffected by consequences’  


Unaffected. He wanted to laugh and then scream and then get into another million fights if it made him feel. Feel something. Pain was something he could work with.  


The nurse tutted in his direction when he rose from the seat with dried blood on his lip and a throbbing eye, ignoring her insisting that he needed to wait for pain medication, he waltzed out and went to the only spot he knew wouldn’t bring him trouble or exhaustion; behind the school.  
_______________________________________

“Not in the mood.” He grumbled as soon as he heard familiar crackling of leaves, it was becoming fall after all. Seasons past and nothing changed, Stiles thought bitterly. Derek thankfully didn’t make any move to talk opting to silently lean against the wall and pull out a cigarette. Stiles didn’t even have it in him to make a sarcastic remark. Derek flicked his eyes over to Stiles face and his gaze lingered as he took in Stiles face. He didn’t mention it or ask what happened or anything and Stiles kept his own eyes trained on the ground. This time, they didn’t talk.  


Stiles leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the sun beat down on his face- reveling in the throbbing pain in his head. Derek finished his cigarette and threw it down. He reached into his pocket and Stiles looked up sharply when he felt something land next to him. He went to glare but found that Derek had already disappeared, again. He picked up the offending object and furrowed his brows.  


‘Ibuprofen’ was written across the bottle and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He held it back and instead dry swallowed 4 pills despite the recommended amount on the back. He knew it was probably right to say thanks but something told Stiles that Derek didn’t expect one and Stiles never was one to exceed expectations. He could do that later. Maybe.  


Skipping class was easy and he couldn’t even find it in himself to feel guilty or really care at all. The crushed up referral weighed heavy in his bag and he forged a signature, he had learned to do that long ago—not only for himself but for Scott too. He had to go to two after school detentions and write an apology to his peer whom he didn’t even know the name of like- at all. Seemed like a bunch of bullshit but if it got him cleared from his father ever finding out he would write the damn thing. Hell, he would write a fucking sonnet.  


None of his friends surprisingly found out and if anybody really talked about it Stiles didn’t know. There was too much drama among groups to even think about Stiles and some nobody fighting near the portables outside. Drama that was so unimportant it made Stiles roll his eyes until it hurt.  
_______________________________________

The next few days seemed to blur together and his mothers anniversary passed without incident. His father stayed holed up in his bedroom and Stiles could see a reasonable dent in the liquor cabinet- he chose to ignore that. Scott came over and they played some random video game Stiles couldn’t remember the name to. They didn’t talk but that wasn’t anything new. He visited her and brought flowers which replaced the wilted ones which could hardly be called flowers anymore. Strangely, Stiles couldn’t find much to talk about and instead sat there staring at it and willing his mother to give him a sign, some way to help him get out of this. To stop having nightmares and feel ghost hands traveling up and down his body—  


(No amount of scalding showers could change that. No matter how many times he had scrubbed his skin raw he couldn’t get rid of the dirty feeling that permanently encompassed his being.)  


The sky turned pink and faded to dark blue then black as Stiles let the air chill around him with the moon shining down. He finally rose and made himself go home despite that being the last place he wanted to be. He casually reached into the pocket of his hoodie and found his hand made contact with a bottle; the Ibuprofen. Without thinking, he pulled it out and let himself smile the least bit. Nobody could see him anyways so what did it matter?  
He decidedly ignored the small, tiny, barely recognizable flutter in his chest as he ran his finger over the cap and clicked it on and off a few times while trudging back to the Jeep.  
_______________________________________

Somehow Monday arrived and Stiles felt- less like ass. He had taken a rough estimate of a dose of sleeping pills which he had been giving a long time ago but just recently found. Apparently they were able to keep the nightmares at bay for a solid 4 hours which was more than enough time for Stiles to sleep. He didn’t know what he would do once they ran out, or how he would ever get more than that when he still gasped awake in bed. But it felt less like dying and more like he was out of breath from running or something.  


He was able to stomach a granola bar and felt embarrassed for being happy that his stomach only growled in protest. ‘You better keep this down’ he thought and his stomach seemed to get the message loud and clear- for now at least. Classes breezed by smoothly and when lunch came he didn’t even need to make an excuse because Erica had just come to assume he was part of some dumb mathlete club or something and passed the message on to everyone.  
Stiles had to admit that he was a tiny bit (very) happy to see Derek already leaning against the wall when he arrived. He didn't really feel like sitting in his usual spot on the ground but it seemed like that was the only option so he gracefully fell to the ground with a thud, snapping Derek out of whatever he was thinking. Stiles looked up and saw he was already holding a cigarette and scowled.  


"Why don't we ever hang out somewhere cool."

"Because we're not hanging out. You're stealing my spot and subjecting me to the torture that is your idea of a conversation." 

"I'm saving you from lung disease."

"Thanks." Derek deadpanned, flicking his cigarette ash carelessly. 

"Either way," Stiles continued despite Derek shooting him a half-assed glare. 

"It's kind of become our spot. Emphasis on the our."

Derek stared ahead, ignoring Stiles who huffed and pulled out the bottle of Ibuprofen he had remembered that morning which was honestly impressive as he hadn't remembered literally anything else. 

"Here." He tossed it to Derek and it hit his leg landing lamely on the ground by his foot. 

"Thanks by the way." Stiles shrugged and Derek grunted in response. 

"Are you an actual animal? Why don't you contribute actual words-" Stiles waved his arms around "instead of strange noises!" 

Derek looked over,

"Ok." Derek looked expectantly at Stiles who realized he was supposed to say something back. Derek's eyes pierced into his and Stiles looked away awkwardly. 

"What's .. your favorite color?" He asked lamely and grimaced.

"Really?"

"Yes it's important to solidify this friendship-" 

"We are not friends." 

"Now you've really wounded me. In here!" Stiles pointed to his heart dramatically. 

"Black." 

Stiles barked out a laugh and then stopped as Derek was looking at him surprised, his eyes wide. Stiles felt himself mirroring the expression because he hadn't remembered the last time he'd laughed that loud after... him. He willed his cheeks to stop turning pink and mumbled,

"Predictable." 

Stiles shook his head and Derek shrugged,

"You asked." 

"Wanna play 20 questions?" 

"Not particularly"

"Ok I'll go first"  


Derek groaned but Stiles thought he could see a small smile gracing Derek's lips so he considered it a win.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments :) It'll pressure me to write and stop procrastinating. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
